Creating a Monster
by Dara Natalia
Summary: This is about Davy Jones. This will answer what you're all wondering about him. Review and I'll keep going and share all sorts of treasures with you.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't have permission to use these characters and they don't have permission to use me.

Davy Jones was a man of the sea. The sea was his life. He was born to be with the sea, destined even. His father was a man of the sea; his father's father was a man of the sea; his father's father's father was a man of the sea; and so on. He was born in a modest little port town in Scotland. His upbringing, like the town in which he was raised, was modest. His father crewed a merchant vessel that sailed between the British Isles and the Mediterranean carrying fabrics, trinkets, and other wares. Jones' family had been working for that same merchant family since before the first Jones fell in love with the sea. Jones' mother was not an ugly woman, nor was she beautiful. She was more plain than anything. The only striking thing about her was her eyes. They were a deep cerulean blue that sparkled like the sea in the moonlight; sometimes it seemed that she could look into a person's very soul. Those eyes are what made Jones' father fall in love with her, Davy inherited those eyes. It has been said that she was a witch, others say that she was a siren come out of the sea to find her soul mate. She had no money or family to speak of. He simply brought her home one trip. Even Jones never learned of his family history on her side. When he was older, he searched for his relatives, but no one anywhere had ever heard of his mother.

When Jones was four, the plague ripped through his village, killing one third of the residents, including Jones' own mother. Jones' father was out to sea at the time, so the elderly minister and his wife took in Jones. His father was not fit to raise a child so young; he was hardly around. The minister and his wife raised Jones for four years. There Jones was little more than a servant, but he learned a great many things. Among them: the wrath of God, the terrors of Hell, a fear of death, and, most importantly, a love of organ music.

At age eight, Jones' father returned to that little town to retrieve his son and introduce him formally to the sea. Jones, like his fathers before him, could, from that point forward, imagine nothing but the sea.

A couple years later, Jones was forced to leave the small vessel his father crewed for a larger ship, owned by the same merchant, that would travel anywhere and everywhere from the British Isles to the Americas to India to where ever else there were goods to buy and trade. As a cabin boy, Jones watched and learned from every member of the crew. As he grew, he used his knowledge to advance through the ranks. His ambition was not something he got from his father's side of his family. At the age of 23 he was trusted by the captain that is was rumored that he may become first mate.

Then, the unthinkable happened. They were taking a coast-hugging route to the Caribbean in hopes of making huge profits at the costal towns of the Americas. Hours after they made their last stop in the Americas and set sail for the main Caribbean ports, a sudden storm came up. The ship was tossed to and fro. Eventually, the storm overtook the ship. Only one survived. An unconscious Davy Jones somehow managed to float on a barrel to a shack in the Bayou.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't have permission to use these characters and they don't have permission to use me.

**Author's Note:** Umm, sorry for the long wait. Well, not really. I've actually had this bit written for a long time; I just didn't have the motivation to post it. But, alas, Erica's threats became too much for me. Thought she was going to take my left foot or something. Anyway, I have more chapters written and I promise to type them up and post them as long as I get a few reviews.

Mariah's long black hair swept past her face as she bent to pick some toadstools from between the roots of her favorite tree. This tree had a personality, or so Mariah liked to muse. She loved the size and strength of this tree. The way the branches grew out just so made it the perfect place for a shack. In fact, there was a shack in this tree. Mariah was a good friend of the woman that lived there. Coincidentally, it was for her that Mariah was collecting toadstools that morning. She put the toadstools into her basket and began clambering over the roots to get around to the front of the tree, like she had been doing for most of her life. The woman in the shack had taken a liking to young Mariah, something about "destiny", and had insisted that the child visit often. Mariah's feet found the worn footholds and handholds as she swung herself around the last turn. She dropped onto the wooden platform that acted as a dock and a porch. Only, it wasn't wooden.

Mariah let out a scream. Most of the creatures in the swamp knew better than to just lounge around on this platform. To make it all worse, the lump let out a deep moan. That was just too much. Being already off balance, Mariah let out another shreak and toppled into the murky water.

"Wha' cha doin' in da wader chile?" Called a voice from the door of the shack. "Ge' yo self up an' hel' te poor boy insi'."

"But…But…Boy?"

Mariah looked toward the lump and realized that it really was a boy, or a man. He was really hairy and dirty and it was difficult to discern his age. She waded toward him cursing under her breath about the toadstools now buried in the mud.

"Oi! Wake up!" She rolled him onto his back and his eyes flickered beneath his eyelids. "I know yer in there. Wake up! I can' move ye meself." And with that she plopped down on the platform next to him and stared at his face, waiting.


End file.
